The Rock and Ice Ultra

Yellowknife, Canada

Two themes reverberated through last March's Rock and Ice Ultra: hardiness and safety. The six-day stage race, with an average of 50-kilometer legs, was held in Yellowknife, NW Territories–Canada's coldest city–and these extremes of climate and distance were the root of both themes.

Yellowknife, population 20,000, is known for its Northern Lights viewing, diamond mines, and winter temperatures that frequently reach minus 40, the frigid place where Celsius and Fahrenheit meet on a thermometer. The residents are, needless to say, hardy folk and those who like to enjoy the beauty of their surroundings don't let a little cold get in the way. They know how to dress for the conditions and have respect for the danger that such extremes pose. They also put on a stellar race and many make the most generous and caring of volunteers.

Not surprisingly, 40 below zero was also the temperature at which the race would be delayed or halted, said Mike Rarog, Chief Instructor & Operations for Arctic Response, during his three-hour, mandatory pre-race training seminar, "Surviving the Rock and Ice." Fortunately, temperatures dropped to "only" minus 35 F during the race, discounting wind chill, so we were considered safe throughout the event. Rarog taught his audience of runners and skiers from the UK, Sweden, Taiwan, Japan, Italy, U.S., and Canada about the causes and effects of frostbite, hypothermia and snow blindness, as well as how to avoid and remedy each condition, and what to do about wildlife encounters–including inebriated snowmobilers.

A Long, Cold Run

The Rock and Ice is actually six races in one: an 80K run/snowshoe, an 80K ski; 160k, three-day run or ski; and the 300K, six-day run or ski. All distances and divisions began together; the only way to tell the competitors apart was by the amount of gear they carried. The 300K skiers and runners all pulled mandatory sleds, a.k.a. "pulks," on which they toted their minus 25 F sleeping bags, stoves, food, and warm clothes for the five nights they'd spend at campsites set up along the route. The 160K racers were allowed to carry less because their provisions were transported in boxes between the camps. The 80K-ers were not required to carry much at all, but many did so out of respect for the conditions and length of their journey.

Incidentally, none of the 80K solo runners were able to complete the event, with the race director, Scott Smith, enforcing a 12-hour cut-off at the 57K checkpoint at 10 p.m. Smith's emphasis on safety included the volunteer and emergency response teams that he did not want to stress with undue delays. (Perhaps a lesson from which major marathons could learn?) Smith was a ubiquitous presence throughout the Rock and Ice, with endless energy and warmth that practically steamed in the frigid environment.

As I climbed aboard one of the shuttle vans to the race start on the edge of one of Yellowknife's many frozen inlets, I was surprised to hear a British runner remark that she needed some help figuring out how to attach the tow system to her pulk. She had just unpacked the brand new sled and was one of several frighteningly ill-prepared "southern" competitors who, although they came with impressive credentials such as strong showings at multi-day events like the Marathon des Sables, were not ready for this kind of desert run. Several learned harsh lessons, with an attrition rate in excess of two-thirds, but, fortunately for the whole field, the race's emphasis on safety and abundant guardian angels assured maximum racer safety.